


Blatu Bolgape

by Immortalnite



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Cryptids, M/M, Monsters, Wild Hunt, everyone dies but not in a permanent way dont worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-26 17:34:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15005888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Immortalnite/pseuds/Immortalnite
Summary: Ryan isn't sure how traipsing through the woods on deerback with a pagan god and monster hunting became his life. No, seriously, he's missing part of his memory. He actually has no idea how this happened.*title changed from Ryan Bergara: Monster Hunter???





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wrote this entire thing on a 12 hour plane ride from Europe back to my home in the States. I didn't edit this because I was way too tired to do any of that shit so, uh, go easy on me? I'm aware that I've written better Shayan fics (insert shameless self promo for my other bfu series) but I put way too many hours on that plane to not post this so here you go. I did absolutely zero extra research for this so I am blissfully ignorant of inaccuracies.

Ryan stared down at the text from Brent on the screen of his phone, restlessly tapping his foot against the floor of the airplane.

_Brent: Sorry dude. Can’t go this time, my dad wants me to help out with some project. Plus, I have to be home for Christmas_

_Ryan: it’s cool, I can do this episode on my own. Have a nice time with your family_

He’d tried to play it cool at the time, hide his disappointment when his roommate declined to come with him, but in reality he was a little upset.

A few years ago, Ryan had dragged Brent into the desert to help him make a video about the Dark Watchers and Cactus Cats, two semi-local cryptids, and had been pleasantly surprised when the video became rather popular. Encouraged, Ryan had started making more cryptid videos. Brent called it their “little side project”, which Ryan supposed said enough about what Brent thought of their videos. Actually, the YouTube channel that Ryan ran had jumped up to a seven digit follower count recently, but he hadn’t yet informed Brent of that for some reason.

He’d meant the trip as a little Christmas present to both himself and his viewers, so he was both hurt and a little nervous when he found out he would be going alone to Germany. Regardless of how Brent actually felt about their videos, Ryan had never done one completely by himself, and he’d also never been to Europe. Some anxiety, he figured, was normal.

As the plane engines rumbled to life and kicked them off the ground, Ryan sighed and settled back in his seat, eyes on the window. It was going to be a long flight.

 

~*~

 

The flight was a relatively smooth one, and Ryan had been pleased to discover that many people spoke enough English (or at least dealt with enough tourists) that he’d had no trouble making it to his hotel. He had fallen asleep nearly as soon as his head hit the pillow, completely exhausted from his flight.

In retrospect, that probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do. He probably should have stuck it out with a coffee and waited until at least 8pm, local time, to sleep. But he hadn’t, so Ryan found himself sitting up in his hotel bed at midnight the next night, unable to sleep.

With a sigh, he rolled out of the bed and grabbed his recording equipment. Manhandling the desk into a better position, Ryan set up a camera facing the bed, switched it on and sat down.

“Alright, I can do this.” He muttered to himself, shaking his head before looking up at the camera with a bright smile.

“Hey, so it’s currently midnight on December 22nd in Germany. Also, as you can see, this video will feature only me this time, no Brent. I decided to do a special video in Europe for Christmas and he couldn’t make it, unfortunately. And before you ask me, no, I’m not going to do the Loch Ness Monster on this trip, everyone already knows about Nessie. Maybe on another time.”

Ryan smiled for a moment too long and then let out a breath, straightening his shoulders imperceptibly. He decided he was not a fan of doing this whole video thing on his own.

“Let’s get into our subject today. The Hercinia is a type of bird that was said to inhabit the Hercynian Forest of ancient Germany. According to a source from the first century, this bird was said glow like fire at night.  Another source from the seventh century claimed that these birds might even light the path of a lost traveler by laying down glowing feathers. Illustrations of the bird often feature silver and gold plating along the feathers, though it is believed this was intended to show the glow of the feathers rather than the colour.

That being said, let’s talk about some theories. Those who do not believe this is a new species theorise that the birds may have simply been known species with a type of iridescent feathers that reflected the moonlight. Many species of birds have this quality, including a few species of owls, so this is a plausible theory. However, both of the sources describe the feathers as looking like fire, which is quite different from moonlight. Another theory is that the birds glow because of bio-luminescent algae.”

He paused to poorly attempt to disguise his laugh at that with a cough.

“Anyway, I personally believe the Hercinia is not a known species at all, but rather an undiscovered creatures that prefers to live in the deep forest. Both of the sources specifically name the bird as the Hercinia and claim they they reside in this particular forest. Given the time between the two reports and the apparent prevalence of local myths about them, I am given to believe the Hercinia is a species rather than a single animal.

Additionally, there are also reports of a similar bird in Chile, called the Alicanto, though that bird has some differences. It may very well be a related species.

So today, I am in a little place at the very edge of the Black Forest, which all scholars agree definitely made up at part of the Hercynian Forest, though it is much smaller in size. If this bird is real, and still exists, I’m betting we’ll find it here.”

Ryan smiled for a moment longer and then let out a sigh, dropping his shoulders. He reached over to stop the recording and pulled out his laptop. Connecting the two, he went ahead and saved the video to his computer and deleted it off the camera’s memory card. The camera’s battery was good, but he still grabbed a second battery as a precaution.

Making sure that his equipment was secure in the camera bag and that the strap was firmly around his neck, Ryan snatched up the key card to his hotel room and headed towards the stairs, picking up his thick coat as he went. The lobby was unsurprisingly empty, except for the elderly woman sitting behind the reception desk. She looked up when he came down and then did a double take when he kept walking towards the door.

“Excuse! You are not going out tonight?” She called in a heavy German accent.

Ryan paused. “I am, just for a little bit. I’ll be back.”

She hesitated, looking unsure. “Be wary. Do not look up.”

He nodded, unsure of what else to do with such an odd warning. She let him leave, though he could feel her eyes on his back as he went out the rotating door.

The snow crunched under his boots and the wind bit at his nose as he got out onto the pavement. Ducking his face down into the neck of his coat, he hurried his steps down the sidewalk to the entrance to a hiking path he’d seen earlier. Oddly enough, there was no one else out on the street with him. Even the local bar down the way was dark and quiet. The only noise was the faint howling of the wind above him.

As soon as he made it to the hiking path, the cold started to become bearable. The trees provided a merciful break from the wind, though it rustled the canopy overhead still. The forest was nearly silent, save the occasional snap or crunch from his boots. Ryan pulled out his phone and marked his location on the map, fumbling his way through it with gloved fingers. He tucked his phone away again and pulled out the camera.

“I hope you all appreciate this episode because my SoCal ass is freezing right now.” He muttered to it once he was recording. Despite the utter lack of anything nearby, Ryan felt compelled to whisper.

“I’ve marked my spot on my phone but I think I may have to get myself lost in order to find this bird. The things I do for you all.” He shut off the microphone with a sigh. It was a big forest and, to be perfectly honest, Ryan rather doubted he would find much. At least he’d get plenty of footage of himself dicking around in the cold.

With a shake of his head and a feeling of apprehension, he stepped off the trail and headed into the trees. After just twenty paces, he turned to look for the trail he had left and realised he could no longer see it.

“Well, that didn’t take long.” He mumbled.

He kept going, taking turns to avoid rocks, roots and ditches. He wasn’t in the alps, but the ground was still somewhat mountainous and rather treacherous at night. He kept his flashlight on the ground in front of him, occasionally pausing to scan the trees for wings of fire.

After nearly an hour, he was absolutely freezing and ready to go back to his hotel. There’d been no sign of any fiery feathered bird, so he let the camera fall against his chest on the strap and pulled out his phone. He pulled up the map, checking where he was and where the trail was. Ryan nearly groaned when he saw just how far he’d gone.

He switched off his camera and started packing it away into the case when the wind began to really pick up.

The trees above swayed and creaked with a sudden ferocity, the howling of the wind growing in volume. Then, out of the corner of his eye, a flash of brightness. Ryan startled and jammed his finger onto the power button of his camera as he whirled to face it. Nothing. Again, a flash out of the corner of his eye. He spun that way, hands shaking. Darkness. His flashlight went out.

Directly ahead of him, maybe 20 meters into the forest, a yellow-red flash. Ryan stumbled towards it, running blindly after the bird. This was it, he was finally going to catch something on tape!

As he followed the Hercinia through the brief glimpses between the trees, the wind kept crescendoing until the howling became an inhuman scream. Through the blood pounding in his ears, Ryan swore he could almost hear wolves. Trees swayed and dumped snow onto the ground.

He caught another glimpse of the Hercinia just as a massive crack sounded above him. He ducked to the side instinctually, barely missing a pile of snow as it crashed down where he had been. Startled, Ryan glanced up at the tree and gasped.

Just above the branches, a dark mass swirled like smoke. It was low and it hung over the top of the entire forest like a strange cloud. Inside, flashes of yellow and green burst like lighting. Ryan could see churning hooves and paws reaching out of the fog and it was only then that he remembered the old woman’s words as he left the hotel.

_Do not look up._

He was looking up.

The sound of the wind seemed to fade into the background and the howling of wolves grew, joined by the baying of hounds. Hunting horns sang in perfect fifths and raucous calls responded in a harsh language Ryan had never heard. The mist dipped suddenly and the forest vanished as it enveloped him. Only the snow at his feet was visible as the purple mass whipped around him, the sounds of cruel laughter and menacing growls resounding.

The fog peeled away suddenly, leaving him in a dark dome that was eerily illuminated green, and Ryan stumbled back from the figure that suddenly stood in front of him.

The creature, or rather, the man that stood in front of him was massive, toweringly tall but skinny like a pine tree. Despite the frigid temperatures, he was clothed only with a wrap of some sort of animal skin slung around his hips. He had a glinting band encircling his left bicep and a shape that Ryan realised was a serpent twined around his right arm from wrist to shoulder. Swirling tattoos covered his bare chest and he gripped a tall, rustic spear.

Most terrifying of all, though, were the massive rack of antlers extending from the deer skull he wore on his head. When the man turned to look at Ryan, yellow eyes shone out at him from behind the bone.

“Who are you?” Ryan said, his voice drowned in the cacophony of shouts and howls.

The man raised a hand and instantly the forest became silent.

“I am Cernunnos, and we are the Wild Hunt.” He spoke in a voice that was barely human, deep and double toned.

The fog stilled around them and began to take form. Hounds the size of horses, black as pitch with burning eyes stood by wolves of equal size, ashen coats dusted with blood red. A few stags with antlers that rivalled Cernunnos’s snorted steam next to barely tamed horses that tossed their heads and beat the ground with impatient hooves. Their riders were equally diverse and terrifying. Ryan spotted a rider atop a wolf, who was nothing more than a grinning skeleton, a haggard woman next to him dressed in rags floated in mid air, her mouth open in a perpetual scream. One of the horse’s riders had pointed ears and cruel, slanted features, and a young girl with a bloodstained mouth sat on the back of a hellhound.

Only one of the stags had a figure on its back, a thin man with skin so pale it looked blue.

Ryan stumbled back and fell into the snow as Cernunnos took a long step forward.

“You are mortal, Ryan Bergara, and yet you are out at night during Yuletide. You have looked upon the Wild Hunt. As the leader of the Wild Hunt, your soul is now mine. Join us.” Cernunnos held out a hand. Behind him, a doe, larger than any normal animal but smaller than the other deer in the circle, stepped forward. Cernunnos lifted him, an outburst of noise erupting from the host as the doe came towards Ryan, and he felt a strange tug in his chest. The world fell away from him and turned black.

 

~*~

 

_The trees looked like toys beneath the doe’s feet as they rode in the group, a mobbing mass trailing behind a massive elk. Cernunnos’s antlers gleamed in the dawn light as the hellhounds and their masters faded away. The horses vanished next, unearthly screams echoing in their wake. The wolves slipped into dust until only the deer were left. The dawn reached Ryan and he grew warmer, warmer, until it was almost too much. He blinked and slipped away._

 

~*~

 

Ryan woke up to sunlight and the sound of birds chirping. His head pounded like war drums and his mouth felt dry. A rock was digging into his back. Peeling himself off the ground, he realised it was morning and he was at the entrance to the hiking trail.

He looked down at himself, almost surprised to see polyester and vinyl instead of leather and blood. His hand were clean, camera in place, and when he checked his pocket, he found his phone there. He took a step towards the sidewalk and his stomach lurched, sending him almost to the ground.

He stumbled back to his hotel, ignoring the wide eyed amazement of the old woman at the reception desk. He tripped into the elevator, in no condition to attempt the uneven staircase. His room was cleaner than he had left it, which he found odd. The staff must get around awfully early if they had cleaned his room between when he’d left last night and this morning.

Yanking the curtains closed, he stripped out of his heavy winter clothes. He stumbled into the shower, the water scorching his skin. He let his head fall back and swallowed some of the water, trying to ease the headache that felt suspiciously like a hangover. Slowly, fragments of memories began to come back to him. But only fragments.

 

~*~

 

_He tossed back his head and howled, blood splattered up his arms and onto the leather jerkin he wore. Snow fell heavily but none of it touched him, he didn’t feel the cold. Beneath him, the doe’s neck was smeared with red. She tossed her head and snorted, echoing his mirth._

_*_

_Someone thumped him on the back as a burning liquid slid down his throat, filling him with fire. Approving eyes watched his every move._

_*_

_His hand, bloody and wet, drew lines across a bare chest, red tracing black. Behind him, hounds bayed and wolves snarled, a steaming carcass ripped open in the snow. Yellow eyes bored into him._

_*_

_A throat crunched under his fingers, tearing effortlessly away from the head and shoulders. Horns blared and triumphant shouts swelled in time with a fierce, manic joy in his chest. His tongue tasted metallic._

 

~*~

 

The water turned bitter in his mouth and Ryan spat it out. His hands were clean but they were wet and he could still feel the ghost of the blood that had coated them. He needed to get out of the water.

Nearly tripping over himself in his haste to get out, he shut off the water and grabbed a towel, scrubbing at his skin. He lunged for his phone, suddenly desperate to know how long it had been since he’d encountered Cernunnos and the Wild Hunt with a sinking feeling.

The screen turned on. 6:45am, it read. 6:45am, January 1st.

It had been 8 days since he’d gone out to look for the Hercinia. He had to catch a flight back home tomorrow.

Ryan wrapped the towel firmly around his waist and grabbed up his camera. It was a long shot, but he didn’t remember turning it off at any point. Maybe it had captured something on film.

He perched on the edge of the bed and pulled put his laptop, transferring the file over.

He swore it took longer than usual to transfer.

When the file was finally on his laptop, he clicked on it and fast forwarded to when he checked his phone. The video showed him looking at his phone, then turning towards the Hercinia. There was a flash of light on his camera and, for a moment, Ryan was lost in the excitement of having actually captured something on tape. He couldn’t wait to show Brent.

Then, the camera caught the sound of the branch above him breaking and the screen went dark suddenly. The video went on for a few more moments, but the audio had cut out and the screen showed only darkness.

The only proof Ryan had of the Wild Hunt was his spotty memory and eight missing days. 

His door clicked open behind him and Ryan startled so bad he nearly dropped his laptop.  He had nothing but the blanket behind him and his towel to cover himself with, so he was sure he looked ridiculous.

“Uh, excuse me. I think you have the wrong room.” He said, his voice coming out more steady than he felt.

An absurdly tall man simply strode in with a smirk, shaking his head. “No, I don’t think so, Ryan.”

For a moment, Ryan simply sat there and stared.

The man laughed. “What, do you not recognise me without the antlers?”

“Cernunnos.” Ryan breathed. He felt himself go cold.

He looked thoughtful. “That’s me. You’re gonna sound weird if you keep calling me that old name though, so let’s change it. How about Shane?”

“What the fuck?” Ryan was on his feet suddenly, anger flooding him. “No, really, what the fuck? Who are you, how do you know me, how did you get in here? You fucking kidnapped me, drugged me somehow, I should call the police.”

Shane- Cernunnos- whatever his name was looked bemused. “You know who I am already. I’m what you’d call an old god, I suppose. Bound to the forest, bound by the rules of my domain. And I used a room key to get in here. The lady downstairs gave me one.” He held up a white card, looking smug.

“Why are you here?” Ryan bit out.

“I’m here because you’re mine.” Shane’s face morphed into an expression of pity. “Didn’t you know, Ryan? I ride at night during the Yuletide, and any mortal who looks upon the Wild Hunt gives me their soul. You joined my Hunt, Ryan.”

Ryan swallowed around the lump in his throat and snarled. “I gave you my soul? Then give it back, you creep.”

Shane merely leaned back against the door and shook his head with a sad smile. “Not how it works. I’m as bound by the rules as you are. You can do whatever you like during the year, but when Yuletide comes, you ride with me.”

“You can’t just kidnap people for a week and a half out of every year. You know what, get out, get away from me.” Warmth picking behind his eyes, he shoved at Shane’s chest.

A heartbeat later, Ryan’s back was pressed to the door, hands around his wrists and Shane’s teeth were bared at his throat. Ryan could feel his breath against the side of his neck, too close, and went still.

“You know, during the Hunt, you rather enjoyed my presence.” Shane whispered.

“Well, I don’t exactly remember that, do I?” Ryan breathed.

That got Shane’s attention and he stepped back. “What?”

Ryan glared at him, slowly bringing his arms down from where they’d been held. “What I just said. I don’t remember most of the Hunt.”

Shane’s brow furrowed, a surprisingly normal expression. “Interesting.”

Ryan stepped around him. “Yeah, very. Now get the hell away from me. I’m going home tomorrow and I have to pack.”

“You’re leaving?”

“Yes. That’s what I just said. Goodbye, asshole.” Ryan guided him none too gently out the door and, surprisingly, Shane allowed him to.

 

~*~

 

He really shouldn’t have been all that surprised when Shane showed up on his plane the next day and sat down in the seat beside him.

“Hey, what the hell?” Ryan hissed as the safety warnings began to roll. “Aren’t you tied to your forest or something?”

Shane settled a backpack in his lap and grinned over at him, infuriatingly chipper. He winked. “I’m as tied to the forest as you are. Thought I’d come with you back to your home. California? I should be keeping my eye on my newest charge anyway.”

Another wink.

Ryan crossed his arms as the plane pulled away from the terminal. “How do you know where I live? How can you even buy a plane ticket? You’re not going to tell me that a pagan god has a passport, are you?”

Shane pulled a passport out of the pocket of his jeans. An odd expression, something like pain, flashed across his face, but it was gone before Ryan could really say anything. Instead, he snatched the thing from Shane and examined it.

Shane Alexander Madej, a US citizen. It looked just like Ryan’s, except for the details.

“See?” Shane’s grin was back in place.

Ryan shook his head. “I have so many questions.” He muttered, returning the book.

“So I did some research on you and I had an idea.” Shane started and Ryan dropped his head into his hands. “Yeah, I’m not so old I can’t use YouTube, Ryan. Anyway, your partner, Brent, doesn’t seem all that interested in your videos. I could do them with you if you want. I think they’re quite lovely.”

“Firstly, no one says that, secondly, hell no. Brent is my friend, and I want his help.” Ryan glared at Shane as the engines finally kicked up and the plane got ready for take off. He turned his body so he was looking at the window, back to Shane, and jammed earbuds in. The universal sign for “this conversation is over, shut up”. Thankfully, Shane did.

 

~*~

 

When later he was standing at the pickup point outside LAX with Shane, Ryan once again realised that he really should have seen these things coming.

_Brent: hey dude I’m really sorry to do this to you but my dad fell and I’ve got to stay to take care of him and his company. I can pay my part of the rent up to the end of our lease but after that I think you’re gonna need a new roomie. I’ve already gotten all my stuff out. Sorry bud_

_Ryan: it’s no problem, I understand. Hope your dad’s ok_

Shane, who was reading over his shoulder, said nothing. He didn’t need to, the smirk on his face said it all.

And that was how Ryan found himself rooming with a pagan god. Later that week, when he had edited the Hercinia video, he found himself sitting Shane down to film a quick introduction for his viewers so they’d know who he was. Or, at least, who he was pretending to be. Obviously he couldn’t introduce his new partner as the leader of the Wild Hunt.

Oddly enough, Shane actually made a good roommate. He got up at sunrise every morning and made coffee, though Ryan never heard him set an alarm. He paid half the rent with money that Ryan didn’t dare ask about. He cleaned up after himself and Ryan’s few succulents seemed to flourish under Shane’s care. Sure, he was a little bitter that his plants liked Shane better but he figured it was only because of his forest magic. They had an unspoken rule to never discuss the Hunt and that helped to maintain peace. For a few weeks, Ryan uploaded his cryptid videos steadily, worked his day job at a resturant nearby, and generally pretended his life was normal. He couldn’t get rid of a steadily growing itch that it wasn’t, but for the moment, the illusion was enough.

The first few videos he filmed with Shane went shockingly well. Together they sat at Ryan’s desk and discussed theories on the Florida Skunk Ape’s relation to Bigfoot, talked about the discovery of the Okapi, and Mokelembembe. The sharp edge of Ryan’s anger at him had dulled with the weeks they’d had as roommates, but it made him quick to make sarcastic little quips, things Shane easily responded to. They had a good rapport, and Ryan found himself enjoying making the videos even more. He found himself coming to think of Shane as a friend, even.

 

~*~

 

The facade of normalcy shattered exactly one month after he’d gotten home, on February 2nd. He’d been feeling a little under the weather since Germany, but that morning he woke up and all but sprinted to the toilet to throw up bile and spit. Shane appeared a moment later with a cup of water, looking pale and sweaty himself.

“I was wondering when it would hit you, too.” He said shakily.

“What the hell… have you done?” Ryan panted, breathing through his nose as a wave of pain rolled through his skull.

Shane let out a little whimper as the same thing hit him. “Nothing. It’s the forest. Something’s happening at home.”

Ryan stood up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I thought you said I wasn’t bound to the forest.”

Shane smiled weakly, his skin beginning to flicker with green. Little velvet antlers were slowly poking out of his brown hair. “I said you were as tied to the forest as I was. It’s my life force, and your soul belongs to it.”

“So what, I’ll die if we don’t go back?” Ryan gritted his teeth against another lance of pain.

“Yes.” Shane grunted.

“And you didn’t think to tell me that?”

“Would you have believed me?” Shane pointed out. “It was much easier to go with you, so I could keep an eye on you in case this happened.”

Ryan’s knees buckled and Shane lurched forward to catch him before he hit the tile.

“I’m booking tickets back right now, I’ll get you back into bed.” Shane lifted him up in arms that were surprisingly strong.

“How are you standing this?” Ryan breathed, his eyes shut tight. Each movement seemed to send a fresh wave of pain ringing through his head.

Shane set him down gently on the bed with a grunt. “I’ve had many, many years to get used to the feeling. I can make something that will help us until we get back, but we need to leave. Soon.”

“You’re explaining everything on the plane.” Ryan groaned. Shane looked relieved.

“Of course.” He hurried away.

About a half hour later he returned with a mug of tea in his hand. He pushed it into Ryan’s hands and watched him carefully as he took a sip. The effect was immediate. The pain didn’t vanish, but it receded to a manageable level. 

“What’s in this?” He asked, taking deep breaths.

Shane shook his head. “On the plane. Get packed, we need to leave in an hour.”

Ryan grimaced but complied.

They met in Ryan’s car, only one suitcase in the trunk. He drove as best he could to the airport, maybe a little shakier than usual. It didn’t matter, he lived in LA. He was hardly the worst driver on the road.

They breezed through security faster than he would have thought possible, Shane somehow managing to convince the security guards that the tea he’d brought for them in disposable cups was medication for something. In what seemed like no time at all, they were boarding the plane, ready for an excruciatingly long flight.

“Answers. Now.” Ryan said curtly once the plane was in the air.

“What shall I start with?” Shane sighed.

Ryan lifted his cup to his lips and took a sip. “How about you tell me what the fuck I’m drinking?”

Shane winced. “Oh, this’ll get me in trouble. It’s tea, made from some pine needles I brought from the Black Forest. The pain will subside when we reach the actual forest, but this is a sort of cheat to help.”

“Right. So you brought them knowing this would happen.” Ryan crossed his arms.

Shane nodded.

“And you knew this would happen how, exactly? Why didn’t you warn me? A little ‘hey there’s a chance you’ll be in excruciating pain if you leave’ might have been cool.”

Shane rubbed the top of his head where it was hidden under a beanie. “I didn’t know when it was going to happen and I didn’t know for sure, but I knew it was likely. I have to explain some things about the Hunt first.” He glanced over at Ryan, as if checking for his reaction. Ryan only returned his look coolly.

“I know you said you don’t remember much of your first ride, but do you remember the different steeds? Horses, deer, wolves, and hounds?” Shane asked carefully. Ryan nodded.

“What the riders have depends on what they are. Those on the horses are fae, immortal tricksters. They ride with me because they wish to. When it’s not Yuletide, they disappear back to their hollow hills and graveyards. They owe me no allegiance, they are tied only to their king. Those on hell hounds are damned souls paying penance for their sins while alive. They belong to some other god’s realm, and return there when the Hunt ends. Those on wolves are fallen warriors. They join me because they wish to. They enjoy the hunt, but they return to their warrior’s paradise. Those make up the majority of my host, if you noticed. They follow my lead during the hunt, but they do not receive my protection and do not belong to me.” Shane looked at Ryan, his eyes intense. Though his human eyes were brown, Ryan thought he could see a faint shine of yellow.

“The few on deer are humans who have looked upon the Hunt, living and dead souls. You are the only living one right now, I believe. When you die, you’ll be reborn among the trees, and will exist with us. There are only a few of us. We’re bound to the forest, it lives as we do.”

Ryan frowned. “We? You ride an elk yourself. Are you…?”

“I was the first.” Shane nodded, not meeting his eyes. “I’ve gone by many names in my time, the Green Man, Herne, Cernunnos. I don’t even remember my human name any more. I just remember walking into the forest one day with a coil of rope, you can guess what I did with it. When I opened my eyes again, my body was at my feet and my spear was in my hand.”

“Ah.” Ryan looked away from him. He didn’t press further. “So this explains your pine tree tea how?”

“Oh, right.” Shane bobbed his head. “That. Do you know what the Wild Hunt does, Ryan?”

Ryan shrugged. “I think so. I looked it up, but there wasn’t much I could find.”

Shane took a sip of his tea. “We hunt the supernatural beings that prey on life. But we never get them all during Yuletide. They come back throughout the year, and I guard the forest against them. I hunt them, with the other human souls, killing them before they can kill the forest or hurt a human. If I leave and the forest begins to die, I feel it. You do too, now. Drinking the tea made from part of the forest is a way to help the pain, tricks our bodies into thinking we're back, but it's only temporary. The pain will come back until we're in the forest again." He sent an apologetic smile towards Ryan.

Ryan looked away. “So I’m bound to a little strip of trees for the rest of existence.”

He didn’t resist as Shane pulled him into an awkward side hug.

“I’m so sorry.” There was real grief in Shane’s voice, though it was barely a whisper.

Ryan didn't know how to respond so he pretended to not hear.

 

~*~

 

When they stepped out onto the terminal in Germany, an immediate sense of relief washed over Ryan, the sudden absence of pain making him feel almost giddy. Shane, too sighed and finally pulled off his beanie.

“Hey, what was the hat about?” Ryan finally asked. Shane grimaced jokingly as he dropped his empty cup of tea into a trash can.

“Had to, uh, hide my antlers. The pain makes it more difficult to maintain this form.”

Ryan thought of Shane trying to sit in a little airplane seat with the huge rack he’d had during the Hunt and snorted. “So you’re trying to hide that you’re a horny boy?

Shane’s eyes went wide and he dissolved into a wheezing laugh that did something funny to Ryan’s chest. He blamed it on the sudden lack of pain.

Shane hailed a taxi and gave them an address in fluent German before turning and helping Ryan get his stuff into the back.

"You know the, um, deer skull I have with the large antlers?” Shane said carefully, casting an eye towards the taxi driver.

Ryan caught on to Shane’s attempt to be subtle and nodded.

“This time of year, bucks are usually growing their antlers for mating season, so you won’t see any of that size quite yet. They’re still growing in.” Shane leaned in until he was close to Ryan, as close as he had been the first day they had properly met. “Don’t tell anyone, but it’s just a helmet.” He whispered.

Ryan turned his head just slightly so he could look Shane in the eye. “Horny boy.” He whispered back, and they both dissolved into wheezes.

The taxi dropped them off at a cozy looking cabin perched just at the edge of the Black Forest. Shane thanked and paid the driver, then opened the door for Ryan. It was warm inside and surprisingly modern looking.

Ryan raised an eyebrow at Shane.

He shrugged. “It used to be deep in the forest, but times change.”

Ryan held up a finger. “That reminds me, how do you have so much money, anyway?”

Shane headed to a radiator in the corner of the cabin, fiddling with it for a moment. “I am very old, Ryan. Also, Swiss banks.”

Ryan nodded, absently rubbing at his temples. The pain had faded, but that persistent itch that something was wrong was back. Shane noticed it and frowned.

“I should go and take care of whatever our issue is.”

He unzipped his coat and pulled off his shirt in a fluid motion, revealing a familiar tangle of swirling black lines across his pectorals. A solid stripe of black was on his upper left arm, where the metal ring had been before, and another line traced where the snake had been on his other arm. He kicked his shoes off and Ryan didn’t even have time to be embarrassed about checking out the man before he was changing.

Pants shifted into bare legs and the deerskin that draped around his waist appeared. Antlers grew out of his head, only as long as Ryan’s hand but still menacing, and his face seemed to sharpen somehow. Shane’s brown eyes lightened into a glowing gold and his pale skin seemed to shimmer hunter’s green in the light. He raised his hand and a spear appeared in it. The ring and the snake formed out of their flat tattoos.

When it was done, he turned to look at Ryan. “I’ll be back before nightfall, hopefully. Please don’t go out into the forest at night again.” His voice was double toned again, but this time Ryan could hear his friend’s voice underlying it all.

He’d only reached the door when Ryan snapped out of it and stopped staring.

“Wait! Let me go with you.” He blurted. Shane turned to look at him with inscrutable eyes.

“No. It’s too dangerous.”

Ryan tried his best to summon a glare. It was hard to glare at a six and a half foot god with glowing eyes. “I’ll follow you anyway.”

Shane held his gaze for a while, then sighed. “You will, won’t you.”

Ryan knew he’d won.

“Stay close to me, and follow every word I say. Every word.” His tone was firm, but it was a concession nonetheless.

The elk that he ride was waiting for them outside when they left the cabin and Shane pulled him up onto its back effortlessly. They ride through the forest, occasionally pausing for Shane to sniff at the air or lay his hand on the side of a tree trunk. When they at least came to a cave, Ryan knew they’d found the cause of the pain.

Even with his eyes closed, he would have been able to feel the ache of the forest in that spot. But with his eyes open, he could see it, too. Spreading out in a circle around the mouth, dead animals littered the ground and a shiny black rot crept out like tentacles across brown ground. Though snow fell across every other part of the forest, this one area was bare.

Shane hissed out a curse that Ryan couldn’t understand. “You stay here. No matter what you think is going on in that cave, do not follow me. Stay in the sunlight.”

He slipped off the elk and looked up at Ryan. It was a strange feeling, to be taller than Shane.

“Please, stay.”

“What’s in there?” Ryan asked quietly.

Shane gripped his spear tighter. “Strigoi.”

He turned and disappeared into the cave. As soon as he did, the darkness at the entrance seemed to ripple and a face appeared, leering out at Ryan. Shrieks echoed from inside the cave, but this face merely circled the edge of the darkness, unable to step into the light. Ryan could catch glimpses of the rest of it when it turned. Spindly limbs, sunken skin brown with rot and jutting bones in a humanoid shape lead up to a skeletal face and jagged yellow teeth. He leaned forward to get a better look, but the strigoi lunged. Though there was maybe four meters between him and the thing, he still startled backwards, heart racing. The strigoi jerked back just as he did, a bitter smell invading the air as the front of the creature smoked. It hissed and backed up, it’s head jerking around suddenly to stare back into the cave.

A cloud passed over the sun and a light snow began to fall. The strigoi jerked back to look at Ryan again. Carefully, it took a step out of the cave. Nothing happened. Ryan realised it an instant before the strigoi moved.

“Shane!” He yelled as a body collided with him, knocking him off the elk, who balked. The stench of rotting blood overtook him as he struggled to keep his arms between him and the snapping yellow teeth. It was stronger than him and his arms began to shake with the effort.

“Cernunnos!” He tried again.

Something flew through the air and struck the strigoi, knocking it off him with a spray of rotten blood. He turned his head and saw the thing thrashing against a tree, pinned through the chest with a familiar spear.

Shane stepped out into the clearing then, shoulders back and walk dangerous. He stalked forward to the creature. In one motion, he yanked the spearhead from it and rammed the wooden end of the the staff through where the heart should be. It disintegrated with a wailing scream. For a moment, Shane stood staring at the spot. Then the spear vanished and he whirled, dropping to his knees in the snow where Ryan lay, panting.

“Ryan!”

Ryan held up a hand, giving him a thumbs up. “I’m alright, big guy. Just a little winded.” He didn’t even try to smile.

Shane shook his head and picked him up bridal style, swinging them both up onto the elk. It really was unfair how easily he did that, Ryan thought. He settled Ryan in front of him, caging him in with his arms and forcing him to lean back against his chest.

The elk nearly ran back to the cabin and Shane practically shoved them into a bathroom that Ryan hadn’t noticed before. Shane shifted back to his human form and it was only then that Ryan realised they were both covered in brown and black blood.

Shane turned on the shower and shucked off his pants, ordering Ryan to do the same.

“Can’t we, um, take turns?” Ryan swallowed nervously.

Shane looked at him, a flash of guilt in his face. “No, time is critical. Strigoi blood can make either of us extremely sick. We’ve got to get it off and this is the best way.”

Ryan nodded. He stripped in silence and then joined Shane under the stream of water.

“Sorry.” Ryan muttered. The water ran brown at their feet.

Shane looked at him as if startled. “What for?”

“Making you come save me.” Ryan looked at the wall of the shower.

Shane shook his head. “No, that’s not- No. You did exactly as I asked, it wasn’t your fault, it was my fault for bringing you.”

“It wasn’t your fault, either. I asked to come.” Ryan disagreed.

“Doesn’t matter.” He cupped Ryan’s cheek, rinsing off spots of blood that still lingered on his face. “You’re mine, I protect you.”

Ryan swallowed against the rising blush on his face. He abruptly turned away under the pretense of sticking his hair under the spray.

After a few more minutes, they got out of the shower. Shane shook his hair out like a dog and ducked out quickly to grab towels, apparently quite unbothered by his own nudity. It made sense, given that he ran around in only a deerskin wrap half the time, but Ryan did not share the same level of comfort. He awkwardly hovered near the shower door, half behind it as he waited for Shane to get back.

Shane came back quickly enough, though Ryan accidentally got an eyefull and had to turn away, blushing. It was, um. Big.

Shane was grinning as he handed Ryan his towel. “I’m a fertility god, I don’t know what you expected.”

“I thought you were a forest god!” Ryan squeaked. 

“The forest encompasses much.” Shane chuckled. “Fertility, life, death, nature, wealth. Didn’t you ever wonder what these were for?” Shane jokingly flexed his arms, flashing the snake and ring at Ryan.

Ryan had to blink a few times before he got it. A snake and a ring, like, well y'know.

Ryan wrapped his towel firmly around his waist and felt rather relieved when Shane did the same.

“Hey, Shane?” Ryan called once he was fully dressed again, the god having ducked into the bedroom to give him some privacy.

“Yes?” The bedroom door opened and Shane came out.

Ryan bit his lip. He wasn’t totally sure if Shane would be open to his idea, but he wanted to ask anyway. “If you’re ok with it, do you think we could do a video on strigoi?”

For a moment, Shane was silent, studying him. “Yeah. Yeah we can. Do you want me to do the talking for this video or do you want me to tell you what I know and we do it the normal way?”

Ryan relaxed a little. “You can have a turn doing the talking. But, could we also go look for some out in the woods. Not actually look for them, of course, just to get a little footage of the woods?”

Shane cocked his head to the side and grinned. “Actually, yes. That’s a good idea. These videos are your job, right? And keeping the forest safe is mine, why don’t we combine. I like it.”

“Great!” Ryan nodded. “Do you wanna? Like now, or?”

“Oh, um, now is good? In here?” Shane gestured to the bedroom.

“Yeah, let me just get my stuff.” Ryan wasn’t actually sure why he’d brought his camera and laptop, probably more force of habit than a conscious thought, but he was glad he did. He brought it into the bedroom and found that Shane had already pulled up a night stand for the camera to sit on. Ryan set the camera up quickly before taking a seat on the bed next to Shane. He gave him a brief smile before turning back to the camera.

“Hey, guys. As I’m sure you’ve noticed, this is not our usual set-up. Shane and I are actually in Germany again. We’ve got a special episode for you today, and it’s going to be Shane introducing this cryptid. Shane?” Ryan turned to his co-host with a smile.

“Right, so today we’re talking about a creature called a strigoi. They’re Romanian in origin, though the name, I believe, has a Latin root. They’re the origins of the vampire myths, those these guys can do quite a bit more than simply suck blood. Legend says they can be created by doing a variety of naughty things, such as having red hair,  dying without marrying or have six older siblings of the same sex. Or lying a whole bunch.”

“Wait, hold on.” Ryan interrupted. “What if you’ve got like, five older brothers and an older sister, but then your sister comes out as trans and now you’re the seventh son? Or what if you’re a boy and you’ve got six older sisters but you realise you’re trans? Do you just suddenly become a strigoi?”

Shane shrugged. “I dunno. I didn’t make up these legends. I guess? There are ways to prevent it.”

“Like what?”

“Well, you can stuff garlic into the mouth of the corpse, cremate the body, stick a stake in the heart. If you don’t care about it coming back and just don’t want it to come out you can just nail the coffin shut, seal the fucker in there. My personal favourite is the method of flipping the corpse over in the coffin so it’s lying face down.”

“Flipping it over?” Ryan laughed. “How is that supposed to work?”

Shane put his hands up. “I think the idea is that if it wakes up facing a pillow it’ll just be so confused it’ll go back to being dead.”

“Right. That’s what I do when I wake up with my face in a pillow, too. I’m just like ‘nope too hard, going back to bed’.” Ryan wheezed.

“Explains a lot about you, Ryan.” Shane smiled at him before turning back to the camera, ignoring Ryan’s little noises of protest. “Strigoi can supposedly do much more than just drink blood. Some accounts claim they have control over the weather, and can make cattle give blood instead of milk.”

Shane raised an eyebrow at the face Ryan made and smirk. “But what most legends agree on, and where the blood drinking nature of vampires comes from, is the other mythical power of strigoi to sap the life from their surroundings. Often, it is their families that pay the price of this in the stories, slowly dying off until the strigoi has no more reason to stay and moves on.”

“So how do you kill them?” Ryan crossed his arms. “Are they like vampires with the sunlight, garlic and wood stake weaknesses?”

“Given the use of garlic in the prevention of strigoi from rising, I would think yes.” Shane turned away from Ryan slightly to look at the camera fully. “Garlic has antibiotic properties, similar to silver, which explains how both became evil-repelling substances in the times before modern medicine. Legend says that both sunlight and wooden stakes work on strigoi, the sunlight likely being some representation of light versus dark. Wooden stakes through the heart kill just about anything, you know.”

“Now, this is the part where, if I were Ryan, I’d start talking about where I thought these fictional creatures actually live.” Shane laughed a little and dodged the elbow Ryan threw at his side. “But I’m not, so let’s instead go over how the myth of the strigoi arose. The name itself comes from the latin and greek word, strix, relating to witches and ill omens. It’s quite likely the part about the undead rising up comes from confusion about the decomposition process. After death, the body shrinks in on itself, causing it to appear as though the hair and fingernails are growing. Following that, gases produced within the body can cause it to swell, even make the face appear rosy and slightly life-like again. To people who don’t yet understand biology, they might mistake these signs for someone returning to life.”

Ryan switched up and turned off the camera right after Shane finished.

“You are way too good at pretending you don’t believe in this shit for someone I literally watched kill a whole nest of strigoi.” He sighed.

Shane shrugged. “I didn’t use to believe it was real, before all this happened. Sometimes It’s fun to pretend it’s still the same.”

The look on Shane’s face was pensive and Ryan remembered something. “Can I ask you a question about the Hunt?”

Shane blinked and then he was back to his usual polite smiles. “Of course. What would you like to know?”

“I did some research on it, like I said on the plane, and everything I found mentioned some sort of second leader of the Hunt.” Ryan said, watching Shane carefully.

“A second leader?” His smile grew strained.

Ryan nodded. “Usually a wife, or a sister. A counterpart.”

“Ah. I was wondering when this would come up.” Shane looked away, the smile dropping. He sighed. “Yes. There was someone who lead the Hunt with me. Another human soul. If I was the spring, she was the summer, bright and warm and lovely.”

“Was?”

Shane looked at him, an ancient sadness in his eyes. “Was. Sara is no more.”

“I’m sorry.” Ryan reached out impulsively, grabbing Shane’s hand and squeezing it. “I didn’t know.”

Shane merely smiled. “You should get some sleep. We can go get some footage of trees for your video tomorrow.” He patted the bed they were sitting on and stood up, making for the door to the living room.

“Where are you going to sleep?” Ryan stood up after him, beginning to pack away the camera.

“The couch. I have to get up early, to talk to someone.” Shane threw him a weak grin. “I suspect the strigoi nest was not the only problem that called us back. I’ve got to talk with the other human soul tomorrow and he’s easiest to find in the early morning.”

“The pale man.” Ryan muttered, mostly to himself, but Shane nodded nonetheless.

“His name’s TJ, as far as I can tell. Doesn’t talk much. His big thing is ice and hoarfrost. I don’t know much about him, to be honest. He wandered out into the woods during the Yuletide, wearing almost nothing, and looked upon the Hunt with his last breath. He’s never told me why.” Shane walked out, letting the door to the bedroom swing shut behind him.

Ryan hesitated for a moment, then caught the door before it could hit the frame. “Shane, wait. We could share the bed? It’s cold and I probably won’t even notice when you get up to leave.”

Shane’s shoulders tensed, but when he turned back around his smirk was firmly in place. “Alright, then.”

 

~*~

 

Ryan was woken up early the next morning, though it wasn’t from Shane being too loud.

Someone was pounding on the door, incessantly. Through the curtains, the forest was still cast in silvered light. Shane groaned but rolled out of bed, the moonlight shedding glittering shadows across his bare skin.

“Stay here.” He grunted.

Ignoring that, Ryan crept after him, lingering just in the doorway to the living room as Shane opened the front door. A thin figure staggered into the room, breathing hard.

“TJ?” Shane sounded surprised. The other man said something in quick, urgent German. Ryan guessed that it was German, anyway. Shane answered in equally fast German. Turning away from the door, Ryan gathered up some clothes and began to get ready to go out. He didn’t want to give Shane an excuse to not let him go.

“Ryan, I-” Shane appeared at the bedroom door as Ryan was pulling on a jacket.

“You’ve got to go after something, and I want to come with you.” Ryan interrupted him.

Shane blinked for a moment and sighed. “Meet me outside.”

After he finished tugging on his boots, he hurried outside and stopped up short at what he saw. Shane was, of course, atop his stag, and TJ was beside him. He’d never gotten a good look at the man before, or at least not that he could remember. TJ was terribly thin and pale, but also strangely cold. While Shane’s body shone in greens, TJ’s skin was a whitish-blue, as though his skin was coated in ice. While Shane’s breaths steamed in the air, TJ’s were invisible. His chest rose and fell, but beyond that he could have been dead for all that he appeared.

Shane extended a hand and swung him up onto the stag’s back. TJ shot him a curious look and said something Ryan couldn’t understand. Shane answered for him with a headshake and a few curt words.

“We’re going after a stollenwurm.” Shane told him, before Ryan could ask what TJ had said. “They’re usually passive beasts, and they prefer tunnels, but this one has apparently been stirred up and is hunting people. Just let it focus on Teej and I, ok? It’s not as dangerous as strigoi are, so this should be fine, but you should stay on the stag.”

Ryan wanted to argue against the magical equivalent of being told to stay in the car, but the smell of rotting blood was still too fresh in his nose.

They rode until they came to a rocky outcropping littered with holes and furrows in the stone. TJ sprang off his deer, landing on a patch of snow that Ryan wasn’t sure had existed before his feet touched down. Shane followed him quickly, his spear manifesting in his hand. TJ’s hands wrapped around the hilt of a pale knife the length of his arm.

A few pebbles shifted and fell into a hole off to the left of them. An odd noise somewhere between a hiss and a shriek emanated from the ground around them. The deer shifted nervously.

All at once, something shot out of a hole, rearing up at the two spirits and spitting a green cloud of something into the air. Shane and TJ jumped back as Ryan tried to process exactly what it was he saw.

He took in the milky brown serpentine body nearly four metres long with four short, stubby legs, and a flushed frill stretched between spines along the back of it with some apprehension, but it was the thing’s head that really got to him. The massive, furry face of an enraged cat hissed down at them from the end of the scaly neck.

The stollenwurm slithered out of the burrow completely, its body twisting to curl behind itself like a rattlesnake. The green cloud dissipated and the monster hissed, trying to produce more of whatever it had been, but it could only muster a thin tendril of the stuff. With it out of gas, TJ and Shane started to move in. A tense dance between the three of them began, TJ and Shane lunging in with their daggers and spear while trying to avoid the biting head and quick claws of the stollenwurm.

TJ managed to get his dagger lodged under one of the monster’s forearms, causing it to wail horribly and thrash. The end of its tail whipped around, catching both TJ and Shane across their middles and throwing them aside. Shane’s back hit an outcropping of rock with a crack and the stollenwurm whirled to face him. His spear clattered across stone and the stollenwurm hissed. It sank to the ground, muscles bunching in its hind legs in preparation for springing.

Ryan opened his mouth to cry out, a bolt of fear shooting through him. He felt for a moment as though he were falling backwards, then he seemed to move without even thinking about it. A soft thump sounded behind him as he jumped off the stag’s back somehow and landed on his feet in the snow. Leaping forward, he found himself grabbing the creature’s tail and yanking, it’s claws scrabbling on stone as it slid backwards. Shane looked up at him with an expression he could only describe as shock, staggering to his feet. He lunged for his spear just as the feline face snapped around to bare its teeth at Ryam. Strangely, Ryan felt no fear. He brought his fist up, connecting squarely with the beast’s jaw. It recoiled, readying again for a lunge.

And then stopped, dead, the shaft of a spear running from the juncture of its neck and head through its left eye. Ryan simply stared at Shane, the god still frozen with his arm extended from the throw. Their chest heaved in time with each other.

TJ called something in German, jogging up to them. It was only then that Ryan looked around and realised exactly what he’d done. Shane’s stag was at the edge of the outcropping, greeting a large doe that had appeared. Behind them, a body lay in the snow. Ryan’s body, his own body, he realised. Looking down, he saw a familiar leather jerkin on his chest. His arms were bare and his legs were covered only by soft hide leggings. He was barefoot, but neither the cold nor the rocks stabbed at his feet.

“I-” Ryan blinked in confusion. “What did I do?”

“Your form. You’ve unlocked the form you had during the Wild Hunt, separating your spirit and your body.” TJ spoke, in English. He raised an eyebrow at Shane. “And the doe is back.”

Shane nodded, the look on his face almost pained. “I know. Ryan, you should get back in your body. Whatever you did, don’t do it again. It’s dangerous for you to remain in this form. If this form is hurt, it could be quite bad for you.”

Ryan didn’t miss the look TJ and Shane shared. “Why? I feel stronger like this.”

Shane merely shook his head, turning away. TJ walked to the corpse of the stollenwurm to retrieve his dagger. Ryan sighed but allowed Shane to lead him back towards his body. As soon as he reached out his hand towards it, he felt a tugging in his gut. He blinked, and when he opened his eyes again he was lying in the snow, looking up at Shane. Some of the tension in Shane seemed to ease when Ryan accepted his hand and let himself be pulled to his feet.

That ease drained away when a long howl broke through the air.

Ryan found himself in Shane’s arms, back pressed to his chest. Behind them, TJ had appeared. Ryan’s doe had vanished, but Shane and TJ’s deer crowded around them, tossing their heads and snorting. For deer, they looked downright threatening.

As the sun broke over the mountains, Ryan spotted movement hurtling towards them from the forest. Shane swore and let go of Ryan, pushing him behind the line that he and TJ made.

“Ryan, get in a burrow and hide. Now.” Shane’s voice was harsher than he’d ever heard it before, menacing with the raspy double tone.

“What is it?” Ryan scrambled to get behind a rock.

“Morbach’s Monster, a poor descendant of a rapist and murderer, cursed into beast form.” Shane spit out. “This is the creature the forest called us back to deal with.”

Ryan ducked down just as the creature burst through the treeline.

The thing was a werewolf; there was no other way to describe it. His back legs were twisted in some sick imitation of a wolf’s, making it impossible for him to stand upright properly, but allowed for immense springing power. He was covered in thick black bristles and each hand was tipped with deadly claws that gleamed in the morning light. The worst, though, was his face. The fur didn’t reach past his jaw, leaving bare the ruin that was his remaining human features. His mouth and nose jutted forwards, not far enough out to suggest a canine snout but too far to be simple broken bones. His brow ridge had deepened and his eyes were yellowed and bloodshot. His eyebrows had vanished and his forehead was lined with bulging veins that seemed to almost pulsate. When he opened his mouth, savage teeth flashed and a wet snarl that sounded painful to make gurgled from his throat.

“I thought we’d eradicated his kind.” TJ said, lifting his dagger to a defensive position.

“Evidentally not.” Shane grimaced back.

The monster circled them, snuffling and sniffing at the air. When he leapt, Ryan blinked and nearly missed it. Supernaturally fast, the wolf shot at TJ in a dark blur. He cried out an jumped back, just in time for the creature to barrel through the spot where he’d just been, missing the man by a fraction of a second. Or so Ryan thought. When TJ regained his footing, three shallow marks lay sluggishly bleeding across his chest. They disappeared as Ryan watched, but TJ still looked shocked. Ryan pressed himself closer to the rocks.

The monster turned and howled, the same noise they’d heard before. It was worse now, with a grating edge that seemed to scrape at Ryan’s ears and ring in his head. A challenge. To his surprise, Shane answered with a bellow of his own, a war cry that would have seemed silly in any other circumstance but now seemed like exactly the right answer. The wolfman’s head snapped to face Shane, turning away from TJ.

He lunged, but Shane was ready. He somehow managed to sidestep the attack, swinging his spear out to catch the wolf across the middle. The creature yelped and tumbled to the ground, snarling as he spun around again. He lowered himself to the ground and slunk forward, closing in on Shane. The wolf kept just outside of the range of Shane’s spear as he circled the god.

They moved at the same time, springing forward at each other and then leaping away again too fast for Ryan to follow. Both were panting when they stilled again, but neither look hurt. It turned into a game of twitching muscles, feints and leaps like a deadly dance between them. TJ broke their dance when he got in behind the wolf, getting in a slash at the monster’s thigh. He let out an enraged snarl and backed away, angling so that he was no longer caught between the two humans.

Shane and TJ pressed around, trying to get him trapped between them again. The wolf watched them warily, waiting for something. Ryan realised just a moment too late what he was waiting for.

As soon as TJ was out of reach of Shane’s spear, the wolf sprang at him, taking advantage of the shorter reach of TJ’s dagger. TJ went down hard, the monster’s claws carving deep gashes into his chest that didn’t easily close up like the other ones had. Ryan made a tiny noise, but the wolf was too lost in shredding TJ’s chest to hear him.

Shane cried out and swung for the wolf wildly with his spear, trying to push him off the other man. He managed to strike him between the shoulders and he tumbled off TJ, turning to bare yellowed fangs at the god. TJ didn’t move. Shane moved faster than even the werewolf could, jabbing his spear down into the shoulder of the monster and throwing it to the side. The beast wailed as it tumbled to the very edge of the trees and hit the trunk of one of them. Shane nearly ran to TJ’s side, murmuring things as he looked over his injuries with a shaking hand. Behind him, the wolf was righting himself.

Ryan willed Shane to turn, to notice him, but he was too busy looking after TJ.

“Shane! Cernunnos!”

The wolf was leaping, Shane was turning too slow.

It was conscious this time, when Ryan forced himself out of his body. Faster than Shane, faster than the wolfman, he knocked the monster out of the air mid-leap. He rammed his shoulder into it’s belly, throwing it aside. He landed on his feet by TJ, breathing hard, while the wolf stumbled. Shane stared at him for a moment in utter shock before something akin to panic broke out on his face.

“Ryan, you’ve got to get back to your body.” Shane’s voice was frantic and the hands he ran over Ryan’s face and shoulders were gentle but shaking. “You’ve got to-”

The werewolf howled and Ryan spun to face it, his hands balled into fists. The wolf didn’t come at them however. Instead, he crouched and began to circle them. All at once he leapt, but not at them.

The wolf landed on top of Ryan’s very human, very unconscious, and very fragile body. Shane threw his spear at the same moment the wolf ripped out Ryan’s throat. It sailed cleanly through the air and into the wolf’s open maw as Ryan coughed up red. The werewolf’s body, now looking just as human as Ryan’s, slumped over dead.

“Ryan, I- fuck. I’m so sorry.” Shane sounded terrified.

Ryan’s hands went to his throat, wet even in his current form. His mouth was open but he couldn’t seem to draw in any breath. He tried to say something, but nothing would come out. His knees wobbled and gave out, but Shane caught him before he could hit the ground. He was loosely aware of Shane, his face wet, picking him up and carrying him towards his body. He knew he should be scared, but he felt nothing. It was like he was utterly numb. Shane lowered him down towards his body with an, ahem, grave expression, and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

As his spirit slipped back into his body and he let his eyes fall closed, he felt no pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm like 80% sure I'll be writing an epilogue for this, which is where the E rating will come in, so stay tuned for that. At some point. Probably.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished it, as promised! I spent the entire time I was writing this anxious because the author of a story on here that I love commented on this but I still got it done! I honestly think this is the fastest I've ever written something and that's mostly because of all the lovely comments I got so thank all of you so much  
> Anyway  
> It's taken me a total of 18 hours to write this whole thing and a full 6 hours of that was spent only working on the sex part I hope you all appreciate how difficult it is to make these things even remotely okay

_When Ryan opened his eyes, he was standing face to face with Cernunnos. Or rather, face to chest. Turning, he saw his body on the ground behind him. He looked so small, so fragile, just laying there in the snow._

“ _Don’t worry about that, I’ll take care of it. Come.” Cernunnos turned away and Ryan had no choice but to follow. The doe approached him, butting her head into his arm. Ryan knew, somehow, what do to. He swung himself up onto her back, rubbing a hand along her soft neck. She snorted, and it was like a laugh. Her head toss was the greeting of an old friend._

_When the Hunt took off into the sky, she went with them and the ground vanished beneath them. Though the mist still surrounded the host, Ryan found he could see through it to the forest perfectly. He spotted their quarry almost before Cernunnos did._

_With a shout and a shake of his spear, Cernunnos lead the Hunt towards a twisted group of creatures scampering across the forest floor._

_The Hunt behind him screamed in delight and the noise rang out in the forest. The creatures looked up and saw the Hunt descending. Impossibly, Ryan knew what they were. Drudes, nightmare demons. They looked it, too._

_When the Hunt touched down, each member readied their weapons for battle. Swords, spears, clubs, shields. Ryan remained empty handed. One of the drudes noticed him and charged. Its face was always changing between horrifying forms like sliding mud, one moment a rotting toad, the next a snarling skeletal dog. He should have been scared, but Ryan wasn’t._

_The drude jumped at him and he caught it, some unknown instinct guiding his actions. He gripped a limb and pulled as hard as he could. It came away with a sick squelching noise and the drude hissed. Its face became even more terrifying as it got scared, trying to pull him under its power. He refused._

_Fingers digging in, Ryan rent the demon limb from limb. Around him, the Hunt goaded him on with screeches and cheers._

_He tossed back his head and howled, blood splattered up his arms and onto the leather jerkin he wore. Snow fell heavily but none of it touched him, he didn’t feel the cold. Beneath him, the doe’s neck was smeared with red. She tossed her head and snorted, echoing his mirth._

_When he looked around, the torso and limbs falling to the snow at his feet, the rest of the drudes lay dead. Cernunnos surveyed the carnage with inscrutable golden eyes, raising his spear and calling the Hunt back to him. They took off again, continuing their ride through the forest._

_Time seemed to melt as they rode. Ryan would see the beginnings of a sunrise in the lightening of the horizon, and then it would be night again, as though the day had never actually come to pass. He knew that the Hunt rode only at night because it could not survive the daylight, the same way he had known of the drudes._

_When they found a hoard of nachzehrer, of zombies, someone passed around a drinking horn of mead that never seemed to empty. Ryan took it from a large man on a wolf, aware that the whole of the Hunt was watching him. A right of passage, to see if he could keep up with them. A feral grin split his lips. Of course he damn well could._

_He took the horn from the warrior, bringing it to his lips. It was strong and his first instinct was to cough, but he didn’t let himself do that. He swallowed and raised the horn in his fist, a challenge. He was greeted with a joyful roar. He’d passed. He brought the horn to his lips once more before he passed it on to an elf._

_Someone thumped him on the back as a burning liquid slid down his throat, filling him with fire. Approving eyes watched his every move._

_They descended on the nachzeher, carnage erupting. When the nachzeher that Ryan had faced fell dead into the snow and no other came to take its place, Ryan got a chance to look around him. At some point, he’d jumped off the doe to fight and she now waited for him a good distance away from the bloodbath. She wasn’t alone, though. Next to her was a massive stag, and the two nosed at each other as though they were old friends._

_Ryan felt eyes on him and he turned. Cernunnos stood in the red snow a few meters away, his spear dripping. Ryan’s feet moved before he really thought about it, and he walked up to the god._

_His hand, bloody and wet, drew lines across a bare chest, red tracing black. Behind him, hounds bayed and wolves snarled, a steaming carcass ripped open in the snow. Yellow eyes bored into him._

“ _You’re just like her, you know?” Cernunnos’s voice was quiet but harsh. “Brazen and reckless and absolutely beautiful.” His large hand came up to Ryan’s face, surely smearing the blood that was splattered across his face._

“ _Just like who?” Ryan flattened his hand against Cernunnos’s chest and stepped closer as a thumb brushed across his lips._

“ _I suppose it makes sense that you have her doe.” The god merely shook his head. “Come ride with me, Ryan. Come lead with me.”_

_Who was Ryan to refuse an offer from the leader of the Wild Hunt? So he did, ignoring the shocked silence from the rest of the host when they realised where Ryan had taken his place. It lasted less than a second, anyway, and then the cacophony of calls was back._

_They rode for what seemed like days. For all Ryan knew, it could have been. The forest should have been awash in blood, but it actually seemed healthier than ever. Cernunnos himself seemed to nearly glow as they continued to slaughter demons and monsters._

_At last they came upon a cockatrice, crowing like a rooster at the coming dawn, and Ryan knew this would be their last prey._

_He joined the tangle of elves and spirits that surrounded the cockatrice, careful to not look directly into its eyes. One of the warriors had made that mistake already, body dissolving with an agonising scream. Somehow, Ryan knew his soul was gone forever. They danced together around the beast, jabbing out with swords and spears, the bravest leaping in to take swings with shorter weapons. With only his hands, Ryan knew he could do nothing like that._

_He wasn’t one to sit out of the action, though._

_When Cernunnos jabbed out with his spear, catching its attention, Ryan jumped onto the thing’s back. He landed squarely on the spot between its wings and the cockatrice staggered beneath his weight. Its neck was as thick as Ryan’s thigh, but he got his arms around it anyway, digging his hands under scales and feathers to soft flesh._

_A throat crunched under his fingers, tearing effortlessly away from the head and shoulders. Horns blared and triumphant shouts swelled in time with a fierce, manic joy in his chest. His tongue tasted metallic._

_The spray of blood was like a fountain, coating him almost completely. The cockatrice fell down and a spear jabbed through its open eyes, rendering it harmless at last. Ryan looked up to see Cernunnos before him, inscrutable underneath the skull mask. His hands were big and warm around his waist as the god lifted him like a child off of the corpse of the monster, then gripped his wrist and raised his hand as though in victory. The other members of the Wild Hunt cheered for him as though it had been a great victory._

_Light began to breach the treeline as dawn came and sent everyone scrambling back to their steeds. Ryan took his place on his doe at Cernunnos’s side as the host sprang into the air one last time. There was an odd sort of longing in his chest. He didn’t want to go. At the same time, he knew he had to. He didn’t belong here. Not yet._

_The trees looked like toys beneath the doe’s feet as they rode in the group, a mobbing mass trailing behind a massive elk. Cernunnos’s antlers gleamed in the dawn light as the hellhounds and their masters faded away. The horses vanished next, unearthly screams echoing in their wake. The wolves slipped into dust until only the deer were left. The dawn reached Ryan and he grew warmer, warmer, until it was almost too much. He blinked and slipped away._

 

_~*~_

 

When he opened up his eyes, it was to a nearly unbearable brightness. After a few minutes and much blinking, his eyes finally adjusted. He was on his back in a meadow, the grass green and tall around him. He lifted an arm to block the sun out and sat up, inspecting the raised limb dispassionately.

It was familiar, but not. Slightly more muscular, the skin- his skin- seemed to shimmer golden. He stood up, turning to inspect his surroundings. The meadow wasn’t big, but it was lovely and full of flowers. And, oh, it was hot out. The heat felt good. He hadn’t felt heat like this since coming here, and it made him feel like he was back home.

But where was here? And where was home? Who was he? What was he doing? Everything felt a bit fuzzy.

He looked down at himself. He was wearing a leather jerkin, but while it had once been plain, it now had patterns of twisting vines in golden and green twisting around his torso. He didn’t know how he knew it had changed, but he was sure of the difference. His legs were still wrapped in the same soft deerskin leggings and his feet were bare.

Reaching up, he ran a hand through his hair, stopping when his fingers met something soft. Flower petals. There were flowers in his hair. Carefully, he pinched the base of one and gave it a gentle tug. It felt as though he were trying to pull out his hair, as if the flowers simply grew from his skull now. When he brought his hand down, there was a small bloom of edelweiss in his hand.

He closed his eyes, letting the little flower fall to the grass.

Ryan.

His name was Ryan.

It was a struggle, like he was fighting through molasses to get his mind to cooperate, to remember, but at least he knew his name now. He kept pushing himself.

His name was Ryan and he was… dead?

Yes, dead. He died fighting a werewolf.

A werewolf? Right, and hadn’t he been protecting someone?

Shane.

All at once, it all came flooding back. Shane, Cernunnos, whatever. The Hunt and TJ and Morbach’s Monster. He’d given his mortal life to protect Shane and now he was a spirit like Shane and TJ, bound to the forest. And the Hunt, he remembered his ride with them. The doe, who was now his. Leading the Hunt with Shane. Sara, who’d been Shane’s counterpart, a role which Ryan was clearly meant to take. A role which he was strangely happy to take.

With that thought, he knew what he was going to do, what he had to do. He turned and ran.

Each pump of his legs made him faster, faster than he’d ever been able to run before. Muscles flexed in his legs, burning pleasantly like a good stretch after a long nap. His arms flexed and his breathing got heavier, but he wasn’t out of breath. Another shape joined him, his doe. She ran along side him easily and he whooped with elation. Leaves crunched under his feet, but he kept running. He didn’t know where he was going, so he followed his instincts, turning at random to stay some hidden path.

At last he found a familiar elk and stopped up short. The elk turned to gaze at him with black eyes, utterly unfazed by his arrival. The doe walked up to greet her friend and that was when Ryan finally saw him.

Standing absolutely still in the middle of a shallow pond, was Shane. His antlers had grown into an impressive rack, stark white and curling back from his head. His back was to Ryan, and his shoulders were lax. The spear was nowhere in sight. His skin was still dusted with dark green, hair still the same oaky brown that shone in the filtered sunlight.

Ryan walked up to the pond, taking a moment to examine his own face in the reflection. He still looked the same too, he supposed, providing you ignored the edelweiss adorning his hair, the golden skin, and how his eyes had turned to a solid green the colour of Shane’s skin.

As quietly as he could, Ryan stripped out of his clothes and stepped into the pond, his foot making no ripples. The water was absolutely frigid. The deer watched silently behind him as he approached Shane. He walked around the god, stopping in front of him when they faced each other. Shane’s eyes were closed. He didn’t seem aware of Ryan’s presence.

“Shane.” He whispered.

At first, nothing. Then Shane’s brow twitched like he was pressing his eyelids shut tighter.

“I’m sorry, Ryan. I was too late.” Shane’s voice was hoarse, like he hadn’t used it in a while. “I thought it would hurt less, you know. I really only knew you for two months, but loosing you felt like loosing her all over again.”

Ryan blinked. Did Shane think he was dead?

“I thought I could make it in time, I thought I had. But I failed, and I got you killed just like I got Sara killed. I should have been more firm about you keeping your soul in your body, I should have warned you that if you die without your body, you can’t come back. I’m sorry.” There were tear tracks on Shane’s face, he realised.

“Shane.” Ryan said again, placing a hand on his chest.

Shane’s eyes flew open.

For a moment, they just stared at each other. Then Shane’s hand came up, more hesitant than Ryan had ever seen him, just barely brushing his fingertips across Ryan’s face.

“You’re here.” His voice sounded so fragile.

“Yeah, big guy. I’m here.” Ryan tilted his head into Shane’s hand.

“I thought I’d killed you.”

Ryan shook his head. “Nope. It just took me a little bit to come back, I guess. I’m guessing it’s not February any more.” He said with a quiet laugh.

“Ryan, you idiot.” Shane’s face twisted in laughter and pain and then Ryan was being pressed to his chest, long arms holding him almost too tight. “It’s July and it’s been two years. You’ve missed two Hunts.”

“Oh.” Ryan didn’t know what else to say. He wound his arms around Shane’s back. “I’m sorry. I just woke up.”

Shane pulled away from the hug, stepping back enough that he could look at Ryan carefully. Ryan watched him take in his new eyes, the flowers, everything about him. “You’re...”

“I know.” Ryan laughed quietly and repeated his words from years ago. “Just like her, right? Brazen and reckless and absolutely beautiful.”

The look Shane gave him then was soft, so soft. “You remember?”

Ryan nodded.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” It was Ryan’s turn to run gentle fingers across Shane’s skin, tracing out the ridge of his spine. “It wasn’t your fault, and I’m here now anyway. Can I?”

Ryan didn’t actually know what he was asking Shane for, but when Shane nodded, he found that the only thing he could think to do was to reach up and press their lips together. He pulled away again after only seconds when Shane didn’t react.

“You can’t only kiss me when I’m dying, asshole.” Ryan breathed, and that seemed to snap Shane out of it.

A large hand wrapped around his waist, another one cupping the back of his neck, and Shane kissed him absolutely breathless. He shivered as a thumb brushed over the spot underneath his ear, lips parting as Shane teased along his bottom lip with his tongue. There was a heat starting to build up in his core, making him feel warm as he pressed closer.

Shane’s hands dropped to his thighs, sliding around until they were just below his ass and then lifting. Ryan let out a squeak of surprise but he went with it, wrapping his legs around Shane’s waist and his arms around his neck.

“Someone’s excited.” Ryan said breathily, when Shane pulled away to mouth at his neck, expertly tilting his head so his antlers weren’t in the way.

“Fertility god, Ryan. If you want to stop, you’d better let me know now.” Shane nearly growled his response. His mouth reached a certain spot on Ryan’s neck and he just barely held in a whimper, tightening his legs around Shane’s waist in the stead of a response.

One of Shane’s hands crept higher, cupping and squeezing the globes of Ryan’s ass. The heat in Ryan’s core had sparked, grown into a small summer sun burning in him. He gasped when he felt a finger circle his entrance, arching his back against the intrusion. Shane’s mouth returned to his, nipping just a little when Ryan tangled his fingers in the shorter hairs at the base of his neck and tugged. Shane tugged him closer until they were practically plastered against each other. Ryan could feel where his cock, hard and leaking, was trapped between them.

When Shane pressed a second finger inside him, Ryan writhed. He moved his hand up into Shane’s hair, stopping when his fingers brushed the skin at the base of Shane’s antlers by accident and Shane let out a strange noise.

“I- Sorry.” Ryan moved his hands away instantly, Shane’s eyes shut.

“No, it’s not bad. That’s just, um- Sensitive.” Shane’s voice was a little strained and his arms shook ever so slightly.

“I see.” With a wicked grin that Shane missed, Ryan drew a finger around the area, careful to only put the barest pressure on it. Shane shivered and then moved, so fast Ryan could barely keep up. He landed on his back in the soft grass at the bank of the pond, one of Shane’s hands holding his arms over his head. His knees were bent over Shane’s shoulders, the muscles in his thighs pulled tight as Shane pressed forward, his fingers pumping in and out.

“Careful, Ryan.” Shane’s voice was downright predatory, as he leaned forward to capture Ryan’s mouth, his stomach twitching. Shane added a third finger, almost immediately twisting them to hit just the right spot. Ryan let out a surprised moan that Shane swallowed.

He arched his back, pushing himself down on those long fingers and it was Shane’s turn to groan. “Ryan, fuck.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m trying to do.” Their lips brushed as he spoke.

“Are you sure you’re ready for that?” Shane asked, voice deep.

“I’m going to get pretty bored soon if you don’t hurry up.” The breathiness in Ryan’s words gave him away and Shane let out a low laugh that had Ryan’s cock twitching against his stomach.

After a few more twists and pumps that had Ryan moaning, Shane slipped his fingers out, leaving him feeling rather empty. Something thick and hot replaced the hand, pressing against him. Ryan’s head fell back into the grass and he found himself breathing through his nose as Shane pressed in, excruciatingly slow. He felt even bigger than he looked.

Shane’s hand let go of his arms, falling to hold onto his waist when he was fully inside. His breath came in little pants from the effort of keeping still. “Ryan, god, you’re so fucking _hot_.”

Ryan wasn’t sure whether he meant that in terms of attractiveness or in terms of temperature, because he certainly felt like his very blood was boiling. His hands, now released, came to rest on Shane’s shoulders, short nails digging in.

“If you don’t move right now, I swear.” He nearly growled.

Shane did move, barely. It was all calculated breaths and measured movements of his hips that had Ryan gripping his shoulders and gasping. He tried to push back, but he couldn’t move against the hands on his waist, pinning him down, so all he was left to do was grip at Shane’s shoulders as he slowly started to fall apart.

Shane’s breathing began to get ragged from his short little thrusts and he started picking up speed, pulling back a little bit more each time. They weren’t so much kissing as moaning into each other’s mouths now. Ryan was sure his nails were leaving red welts on Shane’s back.

“Fuck, Shane- Close.” Ryan panted.

All at once, Shane flipped them so that Ryan was sitting up, straddling him. His head spun from the movement, already hazy with pleasure, but the new position just pushed Shane deeper inside him. Ryan groaned, using Shane’s shoulders for leverage as he started to bounce in his lap, fucking himself on his cock.

Shane’s hands were still on his waist, grip bruising, but the gaze that he levelled Ryan with was akin to wonder. Ryan’s thighs strained as his bouncing grew more erratic and Shane began to thrust up into him with rolls of his hips. Every muscle in Ryan’s new body seemed to clench as he came with a moan, holding Shane’s shoulders like a lifeline. Shane fucked him through it to his release, his teeth finding purchase on Ryan’s shoulder to stifle noises of his own.

Shane held him while they both came down from their highs, eventually falling back so they could both be hidden in the soft grass and let the water of the pond gently lap at their feet. Birds sang their songs of the season, honey bees buzzed cheerfully between rhododendrons, the forest alive and healthy. Between the pine needles, the sky was blue and clear and the sun was warm. The two gods lay in the grass and held each other.

Spring and Summer, side by side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE HAVE FANART NOW THANKS TO VOID-BEE ON TUMBLR ITS BEAUTIFUL AND I LOVE IT AND THEM!!!  
> http://void-bee.tumblr.com/post/175208042746/cernunnos-shane-and-his-consort

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this is Gaulish for "blossom and bud", a lyric from the song Cernvnnos by Eluveities, which you should totally listen to. Also, Ryan's final form is loosely based on the Celtic god Belenos in case you were wondering


End file.
